Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
by angel-death-dealer
Summary: Castle's about to end the Nikki Heat series once and for all, and the ending just won't settle. He finds that Beckett, though, can inspire right up until the last page. Caskett fluff.


**Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star**

_"Have you ever had a feeling that you shouldn't have taken that one step? The step that changed everything? Have you ever had an opportunity that was left unfilled? Have you ever taken an extraordinary leap of faith without being afraid of the outcome? Was that leap the greatest or the worst decision of your life?"_

_"What if I can't take that step, Rook? What if that step isn't an option for me?"_

_"It's always an option, Nikki. You just won't let it be. So, what do you say?"_

_"About what?"_

_"About us. Are we worth it? Will you take the step?"_

He set his pen down with a sigh, feeling the strain of a deadline not for the first time. He was hanging up his guns, well, Nikki's guns. Due to a change of situation with the muse of the character, his inspiration was running on a major lack of resources. Sure, he had observed many cases, and as it had been pointed out many times, he had enough material for a thousand books, but now when he looked at the muse who had given him more eyerolls than his own mother, he found a different inspiration springing to mind.

But the final three chapters were giving him grief. Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook had been on-off lovers for the entire eight book series, and the fans loved it. They told him so in the countless letters that Alexis and his mother would terribly enjoy reading in dramatic accents to him. Martha called it 'characterisation', Alexis called it 'annoying my dad'. They wrote to him to tell him that they wanted the characters to settle down together, one sending along a long descriptive story of their own as to how a domestic day might go for the pair. They wrote to say that they should remain on-off, or continuously off, as the sexual tension, (they actually said "UST") was much more appealing, (they actually said it was "an epic win").

And this would be the chapter that did it. Would they, or wouldn't they? The biggest conundrum to hit the fictional world, sometimes more important than the actual case. He wondered how many people read the Heat series just for the dynamic between Heat and Rook, and suspected that it was higher than one might think - he knew for a fact, for example, that Alexis was a big fan of the crime series NCIS, but while she could name, reference, and practically re-enact any moment where Tony and Ziva appear on screen together, she couldn't for the life of her recall any part of the actual plot of the episode.

And now, Nikki Heat was alone in her apartment, contemplating regrets and assessing if Rook was one of them.

It was moments like this that were slightly too real to life, which should have made them easier. It didn't. That was a simple fact. Once it became clear to him that he had intensely strong feelings for Kate Beckett, it was much harder to write about her. He was suddenly afraid to put her in certain situations, and once, he'd almost had a minor breakdown when he'd realised that he'd placed Nikki Heat in a cliche dark alley with a gun to her head. Of course, when this had happened to Beckett only months before and she'd ended up with a bullet wound to her abdomen and a critical seventy-two hours where she had stopped breathing twice, spent two days in a coma and had her writer companion near a stroke at her bedside the entire time, this was completely understandable. Totally breakdown material. It had been that moment, when he heard a gunshot and watched her meet his eyes as she collapsed to the ground, shortly before the agonising groans and eventually screams kicked in, that he realised what he would be losing - more than a companion, more than a partner, so much more than a friend.

Yes, Richard Castle was greatly in love with his muse.

And by some miracle, she'd pulled through. When the doctors told him she wouldn't make it through the first night, she was still showing brain activity the following morning. When they told him it might take months for her to wake from such a deep coma, her eyelids were fluttering open less than twenty-four hours later. When they told her that her abdomen had suffered tremendous damage and it could take months of physical therapy just to redevelop her stomach muscles, she was sitting up unassisted a week later. But when they told her that there was a chance she may never have children due to one of her ovaries being completely destroyed by the bullet...that was a setback.

That was what had him thinking about regrets.

He often wondered why the team never had children, why Beckett, Esposito, Ryan and even Lanie went home alone every night to an empty apartment. Because it wasn't the life for a child, they'd each say, that the job was more important. The job wasn't more important, he'd always wanted to argue, and they would never understand that until they'd seen what he had seen - a beautiful child staring up at you, holding up their arms for the comfort of a hug only you could give them. But seeing Beckett in that condition in the hospital, he understood it. Bad things could happen to cops. Bad things could happen, like gun shots, and stab wounds, and bombs, and yes, cops died. It happened, and it happened too often. They died. If Beckett had a child, what would have happened when they were in the hospital? How would they have explained that situation to a child?

And when they told her about her damaged ovary, he saw the glint of regret shimmer across her suddenly damp eyes.

He'd seen it when they found the missing girl, Angela, in the alley that time. When she'd effortlessly picked her up, scooping down again as not to forget the girl's favourite stuffed animal - Beckett was amazing with children, not just in caring for them, but in the way her eyes shone when she was around them. She'd have made an excellent mother, but her job was important to her, too important to her to bring a life into the world when her own life was put in danger every day. She never even considered that the be the wrong decision until the doctors told her what she had lost.

So he gave her something to gain. And when she finally allowed him back into her hospital room after trying to hide her tears and asking him to leave, he placed his lips to her forehead, told her that it was just decreased odds, not a life sentence, and told her that no one loved her any less for it. It would have been a friendly comment, had his sentence not been spoken against the skin of her forehead, brushing skin against skin with whispered tones that made her shudden and want to pull herself into his arms.

Perhaps that was wrong, telling her that he loved her when they were both tired, emotional and stressed out, but seeing her bleeding out on the ground had him too scared to think straight. He'd almost done it before the paramedics arrived. He'd taken her into his arms, put pressure on the wound and looked down at her, suddenly finding it as hard to breathe as she was. But all he had going through his head was that he was sorry - sorry for not being there, sorry for probably causing it in some way, sorry for not causing a distraction for once so that she could get the upper hand - so it had seemed like the best decision to apologise for the trouble he felt he had caused. Then, he tried to tell her that he loved her, but by then there was nothing but closed eyelids, and she had begun to grow too still...

He regreted that moment. He regretted ever having to make the choice between telling her that he was sorry and telling her how he felt. If she hadn't pulled through, he would have regretted that for the rest of his life. But she had, and that is why he had told her when she'd been given the life-shattering news - because she needed to hear it then as much as he did. Because the regrets are what teach us to do the right thing - he hadn't told her he loved her when it was most important, when her life was slipping away and she needed a reason to fight, so he had to tell her as the first opportunity.

His greatest regret had been not telling her sooner.

He closed the lid on the laptop, content that he would get no more writing today despite Gina's constant phone calls. It was supposed to be easier to write what you knew personally, but he always found it harder. He'd tried so hard not to fall into the cliche of getting Nikki Heat shot, just because of what he might do to him to have to relive that moment on paper, but eventually he'd had no choice, and they all realised that. A bullet had to hit someone, and in the situation he'd created it had to be Nikki. He'd almost gone back and restarted the book, but Beckett had ordered him otherwise and sat down on the couch opposite his desk, picked up a book she was reading and gotten comfortable whenever he went to his laptop. That way, when he got too caught up in the words, he could lift his eyes, see her curled up comfortably with a book in one hand, and her other arm draped across her stomach, covering up the scar from the shooting that was already hidden by her clothing. He could see that she was alive, and it had helped tremendously.

Six years had passed since that day. Six long years, where so much had happened. His daughter had just graduted from university, his little girl all grown up with a degree from M.I.T that it should have taken her another three years to get - but no, Alexis had to be different, a head above the crowd, way too advanced for her age. He had missed her so much when she'd been away studying, and were it not for the fact that Beckett had moved in the week before Alexis left (under the girls orders that she wanted to know that her father would definitely ask her to do so) he probably would have gone crazy.

And now Beckett didn't sleep alone at night anymore. There was no empty apartment, no dinner for one - she had a real home, not just a residence. She had somewhere she was delighted to invite her father over for dinner to, and have a conversation where he didn't just pointed out the lack of a homely feeling. She had scatter pillows just to annoy Castle, she had coloured mugs that didn't match the colour scheme of the kitchen - but that was just her. Maybe she didn't match completely, but she made things so much more colourful that yes, you did reach for the green and pink spotted mug instead of the more generic black one when you were around her.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star,  
How I wonder what you are..."

The sound of soft singing drifted into his office, and he stood up to follow it. He found himself in the living room, hiding in the doorway as he observed what was happening before him. There was a window seat he'd had built in the living room since he'd found Kate sitting out in there late at night watching the stars, and that was where she sat now, however, her eyes weren't skyward, they were looking down, and neither was it her voice that was singing.

The voice was younger, thirty two years younger, to be precise, and belonged to a young boy. Kate sat cross legged on the window seat, with the young boy in her lap, his back against her chest as she draped her arms around him loosely, holding them slump against each other. In the same position, tucked into the boy's lap, was a stuffed tiger that Esposito had bought him at the zoo last week that had been named 'Es'sito' in thanks to the uncle who had given it to him.

Aidan Castle was three years old. He was a minature of his mother in every way, except for the fact that he was a boy. He found hiding places where there were none, and once they found him missing for four hours during a routine sunday afternoon game of hide and seek. He would be a nightmare when he started school, something that he knew Kate wasn't looking forward to at all. She had greatly reduced her hours to stay at home and be a mother, only consulting on most cases and participating in the more complicated ones. She was good at her job, but she was also good at being a parent.

There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe how she had adjusted to motherhood compared to how much of her life was dedicated to her job beforehand. He'd thought that she might have that perfect balance between a full time job and the perfect mother after hours, but he had quickly realised that this wasn't going to be how Kate was as a mother. She would rather change diapers than sort through case files. She would rather read 'Goodnight, Moon' a million times in one evening than look over a report. She would rather clean away soft toys and toy trucks than even contemplate tidying the break room kitchen. She would rather be woken by a child's nightmares than a phonecall from work.

She would rather be a mother than a cop. First and always a mother. He would have argued that the universe was out of whack, had Kate not been able to be a mother.

"Shh," Kate whispered, curling herself tigher around Aidan who giggled in response. "Daddy's watching. If we hide, he won't see us."

She was whispering at a volume where she knew full well that he could hear her, and Aidan just copied her. "Hide!" he announced, burying his face into the crook of his mother's elbow.

He bent down, creeping to them on his hands and knees as they giggled and pretended to hide from him. He stopped when he was at their side, his face right by Kate's knee as he hovered silently by his son. He met Kate's eyes, finding her to be unimpressed with him finding their hiding place. "Oh no!" she announced. "The daddy monster found us!"

"No!" Aidan argued, looking up and finding his father's face inches from his own. He giggled as Castle grabbed him in his arms lifting him high above his head as a trophy of victory. "Daddy!"

"Aidan!" he copied, mocking his son's disapproving tone. "You can't hide from me, kiddo."

"Yes, I can," he stated bluntly.

"He's right," Kate backed him up. "It's incredibly easy to hide from you."

He feigned a hurt expression. "Do all think this?" he asked.

Kate mused this thought. "I'm afraid so, none of us wanted to say anything, but since you asked..."

"You wound me," he told her, sitting down on the other side of the window seat and lifting his legs to lay along the length of her own. "Kate, I don't want to alarm you," he mumbled, flickering his eyes between her and Aidan, "but I think we might be missing a child."

"You mean this child?"

He turned to see Alexis standing behind him, a triumphant smile on her face as she held onto the hand of a smaller girl. Ava Castle grinned at her father and jumped into his arms, the 'missing' twin of Aidan now found safe and well. She was identical in every way, making her an identical replica of her mother, which he loved. He'd told her countless times that he wanted their daughter to be as beautiful as she was, and she'd brushed him off as cheesy, now when she commented on how adorable their daughter was becoming with every day, he'd have to remind her of this face.

Ava settled into her father's lap just like Aidan had done, and Kate laughed at the small groan of his aging limbs protesting. The twins spared him no decency when it came to jumping all over him, whether he was watching television on the couch, writing in his office, or lying in bed on a Sunday morning - a once mentioned joke about Daddies being for jumping on had never been forgotten by them.

"What have I told you about stealing your sister?" he playfully warned his eldest daughter as she forced him to scoot along so she could climb onto the seat beside him.

"Technically, she stole me," Alexis defended. "And with good reason." She beamed at Kate. "Guess what special little girl just used the big girl toilet with no incidents what so ever?" she tempted.

"Me!" Ava said, leaning up and using her brother's head for leverage to lift her arm into the air proudly. "Me! I did it! No issa-dents!" She then put more pressure onto Aidan's head so that she could stand facing her father, and proceed to squash his cheeks in her tiny hands and announce very carefully. "That means I'm a very big girl now," she told him simply.

"I'm very proud of you, sweetheart," he told her, sounding mashed up where she continued to hold his cheeks hostage. "Maybe your lovely big sister will buy you a special present."

Ava frowned, tilting her head at him. "But 'Lexis said you'd buy me a pony."

"Did she, now?" he said, turning to Alexis, who just shook her head innocently.

The three of them settled down and half-collapsed on each other. "Momma, hug," Aidan requested, holding out his arms to her without bothering to move.

Kate returned the gesture. "Come here then, little guy."

"No, you come here," he told her with a big smile.

"Momma, hug," Ava copied him.

"Kate, hug," Alexis requested.

Now, all three of the Castle children were extending their arms to her. She sighed with a smile, shaking her head slowly as she met the father's eyes. He just shrugged, and held his arms out in the same way. "Hug?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not enough room over there," she said sadly.

"Come on," Castle groaned. "Hug us!"

She went to stand up, only to find that Castle's legs were suddenly trapping hers down on the seat. "Rick..." she warned him.

"As your husband, I command that you hug us with much love and adoration," he told her, trying to sound authoritive, but losing it as soon as she stared him down. "Pretty please?"

"Nope," she said playfully.

"I'm getting kinda hungry," he announced with a glint in his eye.

Her eyes widened a little bit. "Rick. No."

"Do you know what I could really go for?" he asked the kids.

"Rick." she warned him again.

"A Castle sandwich..."

"No!" she told him.

"Castle sandwich!" the twins said, standing up on their father's lap awkwardly.

"Ready?"

"Go!" they chanted.

And with that, the twins leapt on Kate, taking the hug that she hadn't granted them by force. Castle then turned to his eldest child and pretended to use his hand like a walkie-talkie. "Big Daddy to Big Girl 01. Surround and capture, do you read me?"

"Big Girl 01 reading loud and clear," she replied.

"On my signal, over."

With that, the two of them joined the pile, and after much tickling and plenty of laughter later, they did manage to fit all of them on one side of the window seat. And when the parents of the group were sat back listening to Alexis and the twins sing 'twinkle, twinkle, little star' once more, his thoughts turned once more to regrets, only to find that when it came to his family, he had none.

And Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook...well, sometimes it was OK for the guys to get the girl, right? Sometimes it's fine for them to get together, for the sexual tension to end.

Because having a family is a hell of a lot better, he mused.

And just like that...he knew exactly how to end the Nikki Heat series.

END.


End file.
